


constant heart

by sinequanon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Supernatural Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 17:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15890337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinequanon/pseuds/sinequanon
Summary: Derek convinced himself at an early age that Stiles's humanity was a liability. As it turned out, Stiles was neither a liability, nor entirely human.





	constant heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is another older story that I wrote when I was playing around with different pairings. It was originally supposed to be Derek/Jordan/Stiles, but Jordan took an OOC turn in this and it didn’t work out (sorry, Jordan).
> 
> I think this was edited, but I apologize for any mistakes you find.

There were photographs of them curled together, Derek's lupine head on Stiles's lap and Stiles's chubby hand full of fur. Of two-year-old Derek toddling along with Stiles right behind him. Of the two of them, arms wrapped around each other, faces bright just before their first day of kindergarten. There were dozens of photographs of the two of them, and everyone knew that they were destined to be together.

Until they weren't.

Claudia Stilinski fell ill when Stiles was eight, and the next three years were spent in and out of hospitals, fighting the disease that would eventually kill her. Stiles, understandably, had less time to spend with Derek and the Hales, dedicated as he was to pulling both of his parents through the crisis.

Rather than Stiles coming over to bake cookies with Derek, now his Aunt Marisol would make the cookies and send them to Stiles. Instead of Stiles coming over to watch movies with Derek, his younger cousins would give him coloring pictures they had done to deliver to Stiles at school. Even when they were together--at school, or visiting Stiles's mom--Stiles was far away from Derek. It made his heart hurt.

Derek met Jordan two weeks before Claudia died. Stiles had missed school for the third day in a row, and Derek was lonely, so when the new boy asked to be his partner for the new class project, Derek didn't hesitate to say yes.

(It didn't hurt that Jordan was from a supernatural family, too, so he understood things about Derek's life that Stiles never would.)

When Stiles came back to school a few days later, Derek didn't switch partners. Stiles worked alone.

Stiles didn't come back to school after that.

<> <>

Jordan was at Derek's house the night the call came. They were playing a board game with Cora and eating Aunt Marisol’s cookies, and Derek was happier than he’d been in months, and even though his mom called everyone into the living room, he didn't suspect anything was wrong until she opened her mouth.

“Claudia died about an hour ago.”

Everyone was crying and hugging and Derek was numb, because he loved Claudia, and the Sheriff, and Stiles. Then Jordan reached out and grabbed his hand, and it made things a little bit better.

<> <>

The memorial was beautiful. It was colorful and light, filled with vibrant flowers, and much more like an afternoon at the park rather than somber occasion. He had expected a sad scene, not the half-party atmosphere brimming with people that Derek had never seen before. A quick glance at his mother showed that she--and all of the Hales, really--were surprised by this turn of events, as was everyone else from Beacon Hills who came to the service. The Sheriff and Stiles were obviously in mourning, but these strange people kept distracting them from their grief with quick smiles and hearty laughs.

When Derek cornered Stiles an hour later, the wolf was pleased to note that Stiles didn't look quite so haunted as he had these last few months.

“I've missed you,” Derek said tightly, pulling the other boy close. They stood there, just breathing, until a voice came from the shadows.

“You are a good friend,” the man said, and Derek jumped away from Stiles as if he had been burned. The man was tall, and thin, with his black hair falling over his eyes in a way that made Derek nervous. The man’s lips quirked up as if he knew what the wolf was thinking. “I look forward to seeing you again in more auspicious circumstances.”

“Uncle Drake!”

The older man pouted. “I'll not harm him.”

“Just let me talk to him, okay?” Stiles waited for his uncle to disappear before pulling Derek further away from the gathering. “I know that I haven't been around much recently--”

“I understand!” Derek broke in, not wanting Stiles to be upset. “Things will get better now.”

Stiles shook his head sadly. “I have to go away soon, maybe for a long time.” There were tears in his eyes that Derek knew had nothing to do with Claudia. “You have to promise me that you'll make new friends, all right? Because you're really nice even if you don't usually look like it.”

Derek was frozen in confusion even as Stiles leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Goodbye, Derek.”

For the rest of the service, Stiles chatted with every one of the Beacon Hills residents that had come to pay their respects, and Derek didn't have another chance to speak with his best friend.

The next day, Stiles and his father were gone.

<> <>

Five years later, Derek and Jordan met a girl named Paige who was both thoughtful and kind. Jordan was convinced that Paige was perfect for Derek, and made his friend to ask her out. For a while, Derek was happy. The two of them didn't have that much in common, but Paige was a light in Derek's life that he hadn't had for too long, and it was easy to enjoy her company. Unfortunately, less than a year later, the feisty cellist was killed by a rogue alpha stalking the town. Derek was inconsolable. Shortly thereafter, a hunter set fire to the Hale house, forcing the family to move in with relatives across the country while the house was being rebuilt.

<> <>

Seven years after the death of his mother, Stiles Stilinski was an eighteen-year-old boy with a mostly invisible pet dragon and an impressive collection of tattoos that liked to move around when he wasn't paying attention.

Neither he nor his father had been back to Beacon Hills in all of that time, and so it came as a shock to everyone when the two of them returned to town right before school resumed in January of Stiles's senior year. It took the town gossip mill less than twenty-four hours to let everyone know about the return of the Stilinskis.

The fact that Stiles seemed to have brought a posse of beautiful, intelligent, and surprisingly frightening people with him did not go unnoticed. Many of them were in Stiles's grade at school, and they hovered around him like ducklings trailing after their mother without regard to the rest of their peers.

That they weren't at all interested in conquering the social strata of the school made them more mysterious, but no less popular. Lydia, with her razor-sharp mind and dismissive attitude that amazed and terrified people, but still drew them to her like moths to flame; Scott, whose boundless kindness and enthusiasm drew the emotionally bruised and battered to follow him like lost puppies; Allison, with her fierce attitude and kind eyes that made everyone want to be her friend; and Malia, whose wildness and apparent inexperience with humans drew people to either avoid her or hound her in almost equal measures.

As for Stiles himself? Everyone who mattered had come home with him; the rest were simply inconsequential.

<> <>

"Az, stop it!" Stiles woke to Azalea giving him a rather thorough tongue bath. As soon as the dragon saw he was awake, she trilled happily and jumped on his chest. The boy grunted, but resituated himself so that both of them would be more comfortable. "You're lucky it's Saturday," he said, running a gentle hand down her flank. She trilled again and burrowed under his blankets like a cat. He watched the wiggle of the covers as the tiny dragon burrowed down to the foot of the bed and then back up again before settling on his chest and head-butting him until he rubbed behind her ears. "You've scouted the area now. Is it safe to go back to sleep?" Getting no answer other than a sleepy snuffle, Stiles did what any self-respecting teenager would do, and closed his eyes again.

A couple of hours and another tongue bath later, Stiles hauled himself out of bed and downstairs for breakfast before his dad left for work. "Good morning, Stiles, Azalea," the Sheriff said brightly, stopping to hug his son and drop a kiss to Az's head as he moved around the kitchen. "What are your plans for today?"

Stiles grinned at the stack of pancakes placed before him, and took a moment to apply the necessary amounts of butter and syrup before replying. "I was thinking I'd go for a hike in the preserve, see if I find anything interesting."

"Don't stray too far onto Hale land. And don't let those wisps take you somewhere you're not supposed to go." The Sheriff took a bite of pancake and grimaced, likely at the thought of one of his son's previous encounters with the fairy lights. "Call me if you need me for anything, and don't go jumping into any holes. Your mother would never forgive me if you accidentally got stuck in another dimension."

(The sad thing was, this concern was not entirely unfounded. Stiles had met more than one of the preserve's magical residents during his childhood because of his propensity for investigating anything that looked interesting, including unfamiliar holes. Who knew how much the terrain had changed since he’d been away? Still--)

“I won't Dad,” he said with a put-upon sigh. He was probably going to meet up with the others, anyway, and they so rarely let him get into any _real_ trouble. Lydia in particular had always been excellent at derailing the best of Stiles’s plans, though Scott and his puppy dog eyes came a close second. As for the Hale land, with the family gone there had been no one to care for the territory in their absence. It still stood, of course, because the family's reputation was such that no one was foolish enough to try to take it. Still, if Stiles and his friends happened to go by and check on the progress of the new Hale house, they were only looking out for the territory. You know, since the Hales weren't around to do it for themselves.

<> <>

Monday came entirely too quickly for Stiles's taste. Azalea had insisted on waking him up at 4:00 in the morning for flying lessons, his snake tattoo had slithered up partially onto his neck the night before, forcing him to wear a turtleneck to school, _and_ he hadn't had any coffee.

Suffice it to say, his friends found him at their table with his head down and Fidi’s tongue poking out of the top of his shirt.

“Dude, are you okay?” Scott asked, taking in his friend's exhausted state as the group sat down. “What's up with Fi? If she keeps that up, she's going to be on your face.”

“What?” Startled from his doze, Stiles put a hand to his neck, only to feel a tongue give him an affectionate lick. “Damn it, Fi, you can't let people see you,” he grumbled, and felt the tingle of magic that told him that she’d heard him. He turned toward the others with a heavy sigh that had nothing to do with them and everything to do with a lack of coffee.

“We need to make a circuit of the territory and touch base with everyone,” he explained, ignoring Lydia's put-upon breath. “I went through the Hale territory over the weekend and announced myself to the oldest in the area, but I'm sure there are plenty of residents still in hiding.”

“I'm not going to traipse around the forest looking for those who don't want the be found, Stiles,” she said lightly, while Allison grinned at the familiar bickering.

“I think he's just reminding us that we need to reassure everyone in the territory of our intentions.”

“That's true,” Stiles agreed, slurping the coffee that Scott had just gifted him with undisguised glee. “We're not going to please everyone, but we're not going to start fights, either.”

“We're just going to finish them,” Malia pointed out.

Stiles smiled like the mostly-benevolent leader he was. “All right, everybody go and learn some stuff. My dad wants us to graduate, remember, so do your best. Oh, and Malia? Try not to send anybody else to the hospital before this other guy gets out, okay? Just because they deserve it, doesn't mean you can permanently maim them. Dad’s the Sheriff; he’s supposed to frown on that sort of thing.”

<> <>

“I'm just saying that we could do a lot worse than Jennifer,” Jordan said plaintively. “We need to find someone to help solidify the pack bonds soon. All this stress isn't good for you.”

Derek knew that, he did, but she didn't fit quite right. She was smart and beautiful, and Derek liked spending time with her. But the idea of staying with her for the rest of his life made him feel queasy. He trusted his pack, and while none of them had said anything negative about Jennifer, they also didn't go out of the way to extend overtures of friendship, either. It didn't help that, even after all these years, he compared everyone he met to Stiles Stilinski. No one (not even Jordan) quite met up. He knew better than to say so out loud, though.

<> <>

“Domani, you can't--”

Stiles stared at his cousin in concern. He hadn't said a word when she and the others had followed him back to Beacon Hills, but he had only expected them to stay long enough to make sure he wasn't going to get himself killed in any sort of territory dispute before heading back home. Domani was old enough, and powerful enough, to have holdings of her own. She shouldn't be forced to trail around after her teenage cousin and his friends.

“I most certainly can, and I will,” she said, finishing her cooking with a flick of the wrist and gesturing for Stiles to sit down. “I promised your mother that I would watch out for you, and I will do so, whether you like it or not.”

“I don't think Mom intended for me to accidentally usurp part of Grandfather’s council either. I know you guys have more important things to do than babysit me. Besides, it's not like I'm alone. I have Scott and the others.”

“You better not let Aliane hear you say that,” she said.

“Say what?” Aliane asked, popping in from wherever she had been. Only years of exposure to her sudden appearances kept him from jumping out of his skin.

“Our dearest cousin seems to think that we're being forced to babysit him, and that he has stolen us away from our greater duties.”

Aliane probably would have smacked him had she not been busy stealing food off of his plate. “Don't be an idiot. We chose to come with you.” She paused, food halfway to her mouth, obviously thinking of the past. “Many thought that your mother was foolish for taking a human husband and living in the mortal world, but I know that she never regretted her decision. And you, you are such a contradiction in a way that most others are not; it is both frightening and exhilarating all at once. You are forging your own path. It is only natural that the bravest would stand with you.” She shoved the toast into her mouth and winked at him.

“Won't Grandfather be upset with me?”

“Honestly, I think he's mostly amused. He has a soft spot for you, anyway.”

At Stiles's doubtful look, she shrugged. “He's liked you ever since you pulled on his beard as a baby. His advisors were apoplectic, but he just laughed and remarked on what a curious, brave thing you were.”

Domani smiled. “That's partially why you had so many visitors as a child. You were a minor celebrity: the boy who touched the King.”

When Stiles had been little, it seemed like someone was always dropping by to visit him and his mother. It wasn't until Stiles started going to school and meeting other children that he realized that most people couldn't do things like talk to animals or move too quickly for the eyes to see. His only other family for comparison at the time had been the Hales, so the banality of preschool had been a shock.

“Just so,” Aliane added sagely. “You are your mother's child. There are many who still think upon her with great fondness. But you, you will create your own destiny.”

“Isn't that what people are supposed to do?” Stiles asked, slightly perplexed by the turn the conversation had taken.

“There are those that say you are foolish in your choice of guard,” Domani said suddenly, and Stiles frowned.

“Why? Because Allison and Malia aren't fae? I'd rather be underestimated than have every third cousin who wants to advance their position after my blood. They see Beacon Hills as strictly courtesy territory, and I'm not about to correct them.”

“It will take time for the people to see you as what you truly are, rather than as your mother's shadow. But that is not a bad thing.”

“The Hales will be coming home soon, I think,” Stiles said, apropos of nothing. His cousins gave him curious looks, and he shrugged. “Haven't you noticed? The house is almost finished. Why rebuild if they had no intention of returning?”

Aliane cocked a brow at him. “What do you plan to do about Derek?”

“I wish I knew.”

“We’ll support you, whatever your choice,” Domani said, Aliane nodding in agreement.

<> <>

Derek didn't care what the rest of his family had to say: going back to Beacon Hills was going to be hell. The harder Derek tried to convince his parents that it wasn't worth going back to Beacon Hills, though, the harder his sisters pushed to go home.

“He might have come back, you know,” his mother said after one argument. “I don't want to see you settle for someone you don't love.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don't play dumb, Derek,” Laura inserted, ignoring the warning look for their mother. “Everybody except you and Jordan knows that your mate is Stiles.”

“We have the baby pictures to prove it,” Cora chimed in.

“He left me,” Derek said, whirling on his sisters.

“He was eight, and his mom had just died. Cut him some slack.”

Girls, leave your brother alone,” Talia admonished. She watched him assessingly for a few heartbeats before her face softened. “They have a point, you know. I've never seen you happier than you were with Stiles. Even with Jordan, who's a wonderful young man...Stiles always forced you to be more.”

He grimaced. “What if I don't want to be more?”

“I'm not sure that you're going to have a choice.”

In the end, the only concession that Derek's parents made was letting Derek finish out his high school career before moving back to California. Less than a month after graduation, though, the family packed up and headed back to Beacon Hills. With eight werewolves and three humans, unpacking didn't take long at all, and Derek only managed to hide in his room for a measly two days before his sisters started insisting he come into town with them.

After a disastrous trip to a coffee shop where Derek and Jordan consistently glowered at everyone who came within a three foot radius of their table, the sisters decided to call it a day and try again when Derek didn't have Jordan to reinforce his unapproachable attitude.

Almost a week later, Peter ran into Sheriff Stilinski at the supermarket, a fact that the wolf couldn't wait to share with his family later that evening at the dinner table.

“Does it bother you that Stiles is human?” Peter asked during a lull in the conversation, ignoring the way his nephew dropped his fork, and uncaring of the way Jordan glared at him. “I never thought you'd be an elitist, but…”

“What? No, of course not,” Derek defended. “I just need to find a strong anchor for the pack, and well, Stiles was really beaten up by his mom’s death.”

No one said anything, but Derek could feel the judging looks even while staring down at his green beans. Jordan squeezed his hand, and the wolf shot him a wan smile.

“Be that as it may,” his mom said, “you will be kind to him, Derek. I loved Claudia too much for you to brush him aside so carelessly.”

A few beats later, Derek's dad changed the subject, and the alpha gracefully accepted the shift in conversation.

Everyone wrote off the mention of Stiles as Peter being inflammatory until his son Jonah came home a few days later gushing over the wonder that was Scott McCall. “He was just the coolest,” the young boy told Derek, “and he’s nice, and he let everybody--even the werewolves--pet all the animals that he brought, and he told me he’d introduce me to Stiles, because Stiles is his best friend. So, maybe after Stiles becomes my friend, he can be your friend again, too.”

<> <>

It was the middle of July before Derek and Stiles managed to meet--Stiles and his friends tired and sticky with sweat after a day of dealing with the town's fairy residents, and Derek escorting his cousin Jonah for some ice cream. Derek was so distracted with thinking about Jordan's latest potential mate suggestion that he didn't notice the group sitting in the corner until Jonah gave a loud screech and almost clawed Derek in his hurry to get out of their booth.

“SCOTT!” the kid yelled, hurrying excitedly over to the other boy’s table. He all but crawled into the lap of the dark-haired girl sitting next to the wolf--who thankfully looked bemused rather than annoyed at the intrusion--and beamed excitedly at the table. “Do you like ice cream, too?”

“Who doesn't like ice cream?” said a voice that Derek recognized. “Only evil people, Jonah. Only evil people don't like ice cream.”

 _Stiles_. Stiles, who Peter had said was in town, and whose best friend his cousin thought was the “nicest, coolest person ever”. Stiles, who looked flushed and wind blown and very attractive. Stiles, who was watching Derek with a neutral expression that looked out of place on his naturally expressive face.

Derek could do little more than stand there and gape at the table. After a couple of tense beats, Jonah took over, used to Derek's silence. “Who are you?” he asked Stiles. “And how did you know my name?”

“My name’s Stiles,” the man said easily, and Jonah gasped. “Stiles? As in, Derek's Stiles?”

The alpha flushed with embarrassment, only to jerk wildly when the other man answered with an easy, “Yeah, that's me,” and waved at the wolf to take a seat. Introductions went around the table, with Jonah practically jumping in excitement every time he learned a new fact about Scott, Stiles, or their friends.

(Derek could admit, if only to himself, that he was just as thirsty for information as his cousin.)

That night at family dinner, Derek did his best to ignore both the knowing looks of his family (and the strangely hurt one from Jordan), while Jonah gleefully recounted their afternoon.

<> <>

Stiles had gotten too used to relatives appearing out of nowhere for it to truly startle him anymore, but he was surprised to see this particular guest show up so early in the morning, considering most of his cousins tended to be night-dwellers. Even Domani, who was considered a morning person by most of their family, was rarely seen before 2:00 in the afternoon. So Edmund’s presence, while entirely welcome in Stiles's home, was cause for concern.

As soon as his cousin entered the room, Stiles was up checking him over for injuries while Lydia rang for tea.

“Are you okay?” he asked, patting his cousin down. “Are you hurt? What's wrong?”

Edmund gave his cousin a gentle shove and a reassuring smile. “I've got a few things to tell you, but nothing you can't handle, I'm sure. Stop panicking.”

Stiles's friends started drifting in, grabbing the drinks that had been left for them, and settling around the room to listen to Edmund’s news. Everyone hid a smile when a sleep-rumpled Malia walked in and made a beeline for Edmund, throwing her arms around the older boy and squeezing him hard enough to bruise. “People are weird,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Indeed,” he said when the coyote finally let go. “You can come back with me, if you wish.”

Malia made a face at him. “I'd never leave Stiles.”

“I know.” The man grinned at the assembled room. “The good news is, there are a pair of upstarts at Court who want to challenge you; defeating them will only help secure your reputation with the clans.”

Stiles snorted at that, and Scott elbowed him in the side. Stiles's friends all knew how effective he was in duels, despite his distaste for them. “What's the bad news?”

“There's an alpha pack coming to challenge Derek for his betas. You need to decide if you will claim Derek as your own before the alphas, or if you will assist from the shadows,” a slow grin spread across his face, “as our kind are wont to do.”

“How long until the alpha pack reaches us?” Allison asked.

“A week or two. Plenty of time to deal with the idiots seeking to usurp your territory.”

“Plenty of time to plan, then,” Lydia observed lightly.

“Things have been boring around here anyway,” Malia complained. Stiles couldn't help but agree.

<> <>

As soon as the alpha pack was within Az’s flying range, Stiles made plans to visit the Hales. They were still a few days out, but the family needed to be prepared for the upcoming fight, assuming that they were unaware of their incoming arrivals. Stiles just hoped that his challengers would arrive before the enemy werewolves.

“Are you going to tell them who you are?” Lydia asked. “Derek would probably feel better knowing you're not as fragile as you seem.”

"It's going to be pretty obvious that something else is going on when I show up with Ally and Malia flanking me.”

The banshee rolled her eyes. “Knowing him, he’ll assume you're dating them, not that they're your bodyguards. After all, why would you need bodyguards?”

“I'll give them as much information as I can, but I'd rather not spread intelligence about us before the challenges--you never know who's listening.”

Lydia's lips twitched. “That will annoy Jordan, you know.” She thought that the other boy was far too staid for her tastes, and liked to loudly protest his presence in Derek's life on a regular basis. The banshee didn't much care for Derek, either, but it was obvious that Stiles cared for the wolf, and that was all that mattered.

“I'd better take Azalea with me, just in case we need her for anything. Get the girls for me, please? We might as well get this over with.”

<> <>

Stiles knew from running into Peter, Marisol, and Jonah earlier in the week that Hale family dinners started promptly at 5:30, followed by a period of “sibling servitude” as Peter called it ( _it's really just pack bonding_ , _Stiles_ ). Stiles was welcome to come and propose to Derek after that.

“No proposals this time. Sorry, Jonah.”

“Ah, man. I'm going to lose the bet!”

“What bet?” Stiles asked. Marisol echoed him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Nevermind!”

Just after 7:00, Stiles rang the Hales’ doorbell. Jonah, who had been anticipating Stiles's arrival, shot toward the door, nearly knocking Cora over in his hurry to answer it. Seconds later, Stiles, Malia, and Allison followed the young wolf into the family room.

“Stiles!” Laura and Cora greeted, sweeping him into a nearly bone-crushing hug. The rest of the room, save Derek and Jordan, welcomed him like a long-lost friend. Derek wanted to greet him, too, but Jordan's grip on his hand kept him from rising.

“These are my friends, Allison and Malia,” Stiles finally said, gesturing to each in turn. “We just found out that there's an alpha pack headed this way, and we thought you should know about it.”

“How would _you_ know?” Jordan asked, a bit snidely.

“My dragon, Azalea, told me.”

“You have a dragon?” Derek said incredulously, ignoring Jonah’s cry of “awesome” from the couch. Dragons were notoriously picky and very rare creatures, and as much as he liked Stiles, Derek couldn't picture the other boy finding one, let alone having the creature imprint on him.

“I didn't know there were any still living in North America,” Derek's dad said thoughtfully.

“Oh, dear boy,” Peter gushed, “did you become a witch while you were gone? We’ll have to compare notes.”

“I don’t believe you,” Jordan said flatly. “I think you’ve realized that you did a stupid thing when you let Derek go, and now you're trying anything you can think of to get him to notice you.”

“Can I rip his throat out?” Malia snarled into the sudden silence of the room. “It would make me feel better.”

“We're trying to cut down on that sort of thing, remember?” Stiles soothed, chuckling at the shocked look on the other boy’s face. “Let's just introduce him to Az, shall we?” He clicked his tongue to get the dragon’s attention. “Hey, Az,” he said to the room-at-large, “do you want to come out and say ‘hello’?”

It was as if the air in the room shimmered briefly, and then solidified into a small pink dragon with huge eyes and glimmering scales. She surveyed the room long enough to bare her teeth at Jordan and cough out a lick of flame before hopping onto Stiles's shoulder.

“She's so cute!” Laura cried, and Stiles was almost sure he heard Talia give a coo of adoration before Jonah raced over to Stiles. “Can I touch her?” the younger boy asked breathlessly, staring at the dragon in awe.

“What do you think, Az? Do you feel like playing with Jonah?” The dragon gave a quick chirp and nuzzled into Stiles's neck before launching herself onto Jonah’s head. “She's still pretty much a baby dragon, so be gentle, okay?”

Jonah gave a solemn nod before moving carefully out of the room with the dragon still sitting on his head, chattering the entire time about all of the games they were going to play.

Stiles turned back to the rest of the Hales and explained, “Azalea is still learning to fly long distances, but the alphas are in Oregon at the moment. I'll let you know when she spots them again.”

“You are incredibly lucky to be bonded to a dragon at such a young age, Stiles,” Talia said gently, obviously wanting to know the story. From the way the other Hales leaned forward in anticipation, they did as well.

“Yes, I know,” Stiles said fondly. “She was a gift from my Uncle Drake. I'm sure you'll meet him soon,” he added, eyes sparkling with mischief.

<> <>

The two challengers showed up the next day, each obviously expecting Stiles to be easily defeated, and thereby elevating their positions in Court. Once Stiles was dispatched, they both expected the other challenger to be an easy defeat as well. Unfortunately, what they didn't seem to realize was that even if one of them managed to somehow kill him, they would be very quickly disposed of by his angry friends.

Not that he expected vengeance to be necessary.

“Okay.” He took a deep breath, let it out, took another. Why he was forced to dress up before someone tried to kill him, he had no idea. “Okay. I can do this.”

“I wouldn't be here if I didn't believe in you,” Scott said. “These guys are going to totally underestimate you, and you're going to wipe the floor with them. Edmund has already started making the popcorn.”

Stiles huffed out a breath. It didn't matter that defeating these challengers was going to be laughably easy; dueling was still a huge pain in the ass.

A short time later, Stiles and his first opponent stood in circle, waiting for the duel to begin. The rules were simple: use magic or might to defeat the opposition, but neither could leave the circle until one was dead.

In ordinary circumstances, Stiles would hesitate to harm someone he was likely related to, but his dad had told him not to balk at hurting someone who wanted to hurt him, so he pushed it aside and focused on the other boy. He knew, just from watching his opponent for the last few minutes, that the other boy was going to use magic against him, particularly with the way he kept rubbing his fingers together while they waited. In response, Stiles felt his tattoos shifting and unfurling in response to the threat.

No, this wouldn't take long at all.

Once the fight began, the other fairy wasted no time surging forward, and Stiles felt the boy’s hands spark with flames and shove into his chest. He gasped at the immediate pain, but it automatically lessened as he felt Fidi start to eat at the other boy's magic. He watched the boy's face turn confused, then alarmed as the snake kept devouring his powers, latching onto him even as he tried to pull away. Stiles watched solemnly as the boy slowly turned ashen and sagged in Stiles's hold as the magic--and life--left his body.

Stiles took a moment to regret the necessity of killing his opponent before turning to his second challenger. He could feel the greenery bursting forth on his skin, down his arms and onto his face; the second boy watched him with wide eyes.

“You're not in the circle yet,” Stiles said softly, “so you can still walk away. Fidi is full, but who knows what else will come out of the jungle to eat _you_?”

The second boy practically ran out of the house.

“Time for movies and popcorn, then,” Edmund announced, ushering everyone into the living room. There would be time to clean up the mess later.

<> <>

Stiles and Azalea were playing around in the Preserve when he noticed it--the smell that signaled the arrival of a foreign pack. Ordering Az to go invisible, Stiles followed the scent of the alpha pack to the outskirts of Beacon Hills, then immediately went to warn the Hales of the impending arrival.

That done, he had just enough time to gather his friends before sneaking to watch the confrontation taking place just outside Hale property. Talia and her family were waiting at the border with serious looks on their faces while Stiles and his friends settled into the shadows.

“Alpha Hale,” Deucalion said formally. “Kali has come to challenge your son for his pack.”

“Hell, no,” Erica spat from beside Derek, Boyd and Isaac shaking their heads in denial. Derek tried to step forward, only to be stopped by his mother's arm.

“Let me guess. If he defeats Kali, Ennis will be next, and so forth until all the spoils go to you. Yet you forget, this is _my_ land.”

“For now, perhaps,” the alpha conceded with a smirk that made all of the Hales growl with displeasure. Stiles was still considering jumping in when a new voice rang into the clearing.

“Actually, you are both incorrect. This land belongs to the Fair Folk.” A tall, thin man appeared in the clearing, standing between the two groups and nonchalantly leaning against an invisible tree.

“Nonsense, there are no fairies here,” Deucalion spat, though everyone noticed how he kept his eyes on the newcomer. “Take your childish games elsewhere.”

“There are far more of my people living in the Preserve and in the corresponding county than there are wolves. Even a fool would know such things.” The man gave Deucalion a grin that was all teeth.

“I don't think you understand who I am,” the wolf said, flashing his eyes.

“I was about to say the same to you."

Kali snarled at the insult. “It will hardly matter when my teeth--” she began, only to be interrupted.

“You're Prince Drake. Of the Winter Court.” Peter announced, interest heavy in his voice. He turned to Talia. “If he wanted, this man could take our lands and our lives, and there would be nothing we could do to stop him.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Drake, who grinned. “Thankfully for you, it is not I who hold court here. My nephew is much more forgiving than I. Usually.”

Deucalion’s eyes were angry, but his voice was even when he addressed the prince. “I would propose an alliance between us.”

Drake’s smile turned razor sharp. “I don't believe that my nephew is interested in a political marriage.”

“I would rather hear the boy speak myself,” the alpha pressed.

“Very well.” He turned to Stiles, still half-hidden in the shadows. He gestured him forward, biting back a smile at the sounds of shock from both packs as his nephew moved to stand with him. “Are you interested in a political marriage, nephew mine?”

“Thank you, but no. I already have someone in mind.” Stiles kept his eyes on his uncle as his friends fanned out around the Hales. “I'm afraid I must reject the offer,” he added formally.

The Prince turned back to the wolves with bright eyes. “There, you see?”

“You expect me to believe that this boy has claim over this land?” Deucalion snarled, blithely uncaring of the fury banked in the prince’s eyes.

“Let's find out, shall we?” As everyone watched, Stiles and his friends _changed._  Scott become a wolf, Malia a coyote, Allison's eyes gleamed as she drew her bow and arrow, while Lydia somehow grew darker and colder. Stiles's cousins’ faces turned less human and more foreign, and between one blink and the next, Stiles became a tiger and jumped at the alphas.

Derek was frozen, watching Stiles (who wasn't quite human, evidently) and his friends fight against the alpha pack. He could tell he wasn't the only one in his family who wanted to jump in, but everyone was entranced by Stiles, who shifted fluidly from tiger, to raven, to panther, to bear before finally clawing Deucalion’s heart out. Shortly thereafter, the bodies of the other five alphas lay dead as well.

After changing back and eyeing everyone (including the Hales) for injuries, Stiles turned to his uncle. “Did you just come for the show, or did you need something?”

“Actually, I only wanted to congratulate you on defeating your challengers. I imagine it will be quite some time before you face another. From kin, in any case,” he said with a smirk. “Do let us know when to start preparing for the wedding!”

 “Uncle Drake!”

 <> <>

 “So, if Prince Drake is your uncle, then the King--”

 “Is my grandfather.” Stiles ignored the choking sound coming from Jordan.

 “Why didn't you say anything?”

“We're called the hidden people for a reason, you know. Plus, I wasn't even going to have a holding until my cousin Kyr had an unfortunate run-in with a minotaur. Lucky me. So, Derek, do you want to go on a date Friday night?”

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There were photographs of them curled together, Derek passed out on the sofa with Stiles asleep on top of him. Of the two of them dressed up for whatever courtly function Stiles had been pulled into at the moment, or whatever function Derek needed to attend. Of the two of them, arms wrapped around each other, faces bright on their wedding day. There were dozens more photographs of the two of them, proof that everyone was right.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay turned for more TW stuff, properly tomorrow.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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